


5 Time Alexander Hamilton Survived the Odds and 1 Time He Didn't

by Penneay



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is hard to kill, But not like outrageously so, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, James Hamilton Sr is not a dick, Well I mean he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8821771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penneay/pseuds/Penneay
Summary: Alexander has the lucky habit of surviving despite the odds. That is until his luck runs out. 
Inspired by the line "I couldn't seem to die" in the song Hurricane.





	1. 1st Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story concept that has been rattling around in my head for months now. I hope I can do it some semblance of justice. I am no history major or history buff, but I have tried to carefully research for this story. I hope that the characterization rings true for you and you enjoy the story.

It was painful. Of course. Of course she knew this, this being her second child and all, but still. It hurt.

And she was alone.

With—with James Jr., at least Johann had been waiting for her. Of course, he wasn’t allowed in the birthing room, but he had waited. Because there was a—a chance that the babe might be his. That the Lavien name would live on an his wife, his _harlot_ wife could still redeem herself.

Now he knew better.

James Sr. couldn't be there. In between jobs again, working down at some place in town or maybe gambling more money away with another bad investment. Who knew. 

Its been 14 long hours. 14 arduous hours of never ending clenching and pain and blood—so much blood.

The midwife is talking, as though she’s too delusional with the pain, about cutting the babe out of her if it continues much longer.

Luckily it doesn’t.

She pushes, and pushes, and _pushes_ until that tiny fragile body is free of her at last. And she’s so relieved, so blissfully relieved for about 10 seconds until she realizes the babe isn’t crying.

The midwife worked quickly, cutting the cord and smacking the babes bum and back but still the child will not cry. In fact, the child is quickly turning blue in the face, which can only mean death is seeping in.

Rachel felt tears coming to her eyes. No, not her baby. Not her baby, her little piece of James.

The midwife laid the child on the bed and jostled his little chest while smacking his back.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but at most amounted to a minute at most, a small weak cry as the babe managed to cough out a bit of fluid.

The baby’s cries grew with strength as the midwife set about cleaning them and wrapping them. As she deposited the baby in the mother’s arms she announced:

“A boy Ms. Faucette. A strong fighting lad If I may.”

Rachel smiled down at the boy, her little survivor, her little Alexander.


	2. Life 2

James Jr, or Jim as his mère and little Alex called him, was a little overwhelmed. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he was still overwhelmed. Ever since papa left he’d had to step up.

He picked up odd jobs around the island, still a little lost on Christiansted, a little more proper and a little more judgmental than the Nevis they had previously called home. Everyone busy body on the street seemed to know of his mother’s “shame”, her indiscretion. Finding work was hard as a bastard. Finding work to pay rent was hard enough, let alone food.

Which was even worse considering the circumstances.

James walked in the set of rooms they called home. He discarded his coat onto the rack near the door and carefully padded into the main bedroom where his mère and brother lie.

The scent of sick was thick in the air and he held his shirt up to his nose as he changed out the water on the table beside the bed. He placed a new towel on his mère brow and then on little Alex’s as well. They were cuddle close together and he regretfully pulled them apart. The physician he spoke to yesterday mentioned keeping patients cool had helped with cases of Yellow Fever before. He couldn’t have them burning each other up.

Little Alex cracked open his eyes.

He croaked, “Hi Jim,” while weakly smiling.

James smiled down at the boy.

“Hey Alex, do you want some broth? Its from Marie down the street. She sent it over special. Just for you”

Alex wavered. But finally nodded.

James went and fetched the broth and carefully spoon fed half to the boy before Alex dropped off into a restless slumber. He looked over to his mother who seemed to be falling prey to the fever at a quicker pace than the youngest Hamilton. He gentley nudged her.

“Mère—mère wake up. I’ve got some broth for you to eat.”

She woke a little, squinting up at him with foggy eyes. She managed a few spoonfuls, even less than the little child who laid next to her.

James sighed and set aside the bowl. He would finish it with his bread later. He set about straightening the bedclothes, covering his precious people with a thin sheet.

He turned in for the night hoping that things would be better in the morning.

It wasn’t.

He woke to his mother stiff in death, her arms still around little Alex. Little Alex who was sobbing quietly.

Alexander recovered within the next week. Their mother’s funeral was that Sunday.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel Faucett was the main bread winner for her small family after James Sr. left. Having been ousted from her marriage, "abandoned" by her lover, and forced to move back to the very place she fled from with said lover, I image she had difficulty finding work. After becoming sick it would have fallen on the boys to make money and seeing as little Alex was also sick as a dog (and around 12 nonetheless) James jr had to pick up the slack.   
> I imagine him being overwhelmed and tired from the responsibility. Trying to hold it together for his brother and mother.


	3. Life 3

Alexander’s life was finally looking up.

It had been a long tough road. He and James were broke after mère died. Well, broker then they were before.

Cousin Peter took them in, but the man was… strange. He seemed haunted and melancholy, often sitting in a room for hours doing nothing at all. He _tried_ for Alexander and James. Gave fragile smiles during dinner and sent them into town with as much cheer as he could muster. Unfortunately, they still found him hung in his study, a chair toppled under him.

After that, he didn’t see James much. Alex found a home Thomas Steven on Nevis, befriended his son Edward who had an uncanny likeness to him. Clerked under Beekman and Cruger, trading goods and building connections so he could work his way up. Build his legacy. Build a home.

Life was good.

Until it wasn’t.

Signs of a storm had been cropping up for days. The tides were rougher, coming in much farther than normal most nights, and the winds were harsher, bending the palms.

People made the normal preparations. Shops were closed, the ships brought in, and the shutters closed on many houses. There was no fear. Plenty of storms had hit the island before and plenty had survived.

Even these small preparations were not enough.

Hamilton took shelter with Edward in the Steven estate. They’ed hunkered down in the sitting room, sitting idly while reading or drinking. Nothing much to do with a storm out.

It was quite peaceful before it touched down. But once it did that calm was quickly shattered.

The wind howled outside and they could hear things crash outside the manor. They quickly moved closer to the center of the house, away from the windows. The very walls rattled and there was a large boom from the other side of the building. A scream from that direction as well.

When it was over the devastation was horrendous.

The maid, Allison, had been crushed by a beam that had fallen from the impact of debris from the storm. Luckily, the only casualty on the Steven property. But in the town.

Every family had lost someone, young and old. Good and bad. No man, woman, or child had been safe. The damage was endless. His friends, his coworkers, his—his brother. Gone. Because of foolishness, arrogance, and pride.

And Alex. Alex survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hurricane in Nevis has an interesting history and so does Hamilton's relationship with is adoptive father Thomas Stevens (who very well might have been Hamilton's real father). I'm not 100 if James Jr dies in the hurricane, there's very little information written about the man available to me. 
> 
> After the hurricane, Alexander writes a scathing letter to his father about the state of Nevis and what he perceived to be the cause of the hurricane. This letter is what later inspired people to send him to the US to continue his education.


End file.
